


The Trickster's Kiss ᚲ

by MajesticWren123581321345589144233377



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Loki's tricks, Multi, Other, Platonic Relationships, Soulmates, what if...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajesticWren123581321345589144233377/pseuds/MajesticWren123581321345589144233377
Summary: What if Angrboda, daughter of Floki and Helga, never died?She is gifted and cursed. She who walks the Earth guided and Inspired by the Trickster.Grown to become a gifted witch, a skilled warrior, a determined and loyal woman.And in her life, made of choices and war, and magic, and whispers, she is destined to always choose the side of a man she loves dearly, over her soulmate.As much as she would always chose Loki, over any other God.The events of this fanfic starts at S402 continuing to S602.It may contain flashbacks.
Relationships: Angrboda/Hvitserk (Vikings), Angrboda/Ivar (Vikings), Other Canon Relationships, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Kudos: 8





	1. So it begins.

Everything began in a stormy night of so many, many years ago. 

What do Gods do, when they are tired, bored, in need of an escape, or even trying to help their favorite mortals?  
They reach for Midgard. Looking for… Something new and different.  
And that is precisely what Loki did then.  
He didn’t like mortals that much… And his despite was really close to being justified by the fact that mortals didn’t like him.  
Yes, besides very, very few exceptions, the God didn’t like much of humanity. Not sure what was the fuss the other Gods thought of them and what was they saw in the Midgardians.  
But Loki had his exceptions, of course. He didn’t see anything in the most, but those few he saw… They were worthy.  
And for one of them, maybe his favorite between them all, he knew precisely what his future laid. And he really wasn’t happy about it.  
That was the whole reason why the God traveled to Earth looking for the man known as Floki the Boat-builder.

—— . ——

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑐𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑆𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑-𝑙𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑝, 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑖𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑦 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠, 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑚.  
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑟, 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒. 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑡, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑔𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑝. 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑤.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑎 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟; 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑝𝑖𝑑 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦, 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡.  
𝐴𝑠 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑, 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑠. 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛 – 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒.  
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑁𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒.  
𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒, 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟.  
𝐾𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑔𝑒, 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑟, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡, 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑑! 𝑂𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒… 𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑡 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑠ℎ, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑖𝑡. 𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒… 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛, 𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑎𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟…  
𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠.  
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛... 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠.  
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒?  
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑒?  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑, 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛... 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠.  
"𝐿𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝑔𝑜."  
𝐴 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛, 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝, 𝑎𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛.  
𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠, 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.  
𝐻𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑘 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐷𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑦, 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠… 𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑢𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙.  
"𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖?"  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑. "𝑌𝑒𝑠, 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑. 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒."  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛, 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑚, 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖, 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑦𝑗𝑎, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑦𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑁𝑗𝑜̈𝑟ð𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑆𝑘𝑎ð𝑖, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑙𝑙-𝐹𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟; 𝐻𝑢𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑀𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠.  
𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖, 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑, 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒𝑛.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚.  
𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑆𝑘𝑎ð𝑖.  
“𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑠, 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡.”  
“𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛, 𝑛𝑜. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒.”  
“𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡.”  
“𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.”  
“𝑀𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟? 𝐼𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒?”  
𝐴 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎, 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠.  
𝐵𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛, 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑.  
𝑆𝑜, 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔.  
𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛, 𝑠𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑡 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎'𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑜𝑑. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠.  
𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠, 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑥, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑜 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛.  
“𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑠. 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒.”  
“𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑖𝑡?”  
“𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛.”  
𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑒𝑑, 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ.  
𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ... 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑤 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑, 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑑. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑… 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑, 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡.  
“𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢.”  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎, 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦, 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟, 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑.  
𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛… 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛. 

—— . ——

Angrboda woke up startled, jumping in her bed with a soundly gasp.  
She was out of breath, covered in sweat and her head was hurting so bad that the girl thought it had been smashed by an ax. At that point, she had to raise a hand and check just to be sure.  
She looked around, confused, and the more she woke up, the more her senses and consciousness would come back to her.  
She could hear birds singing, outside, and see the pale light of dawn picking through the window.  
The air smelled fresh and crispy, carrying the usual strong smell of wood and musk that their house had.  
She had kicked her pelts off the bed top, during her sleep and...  
It was then that the dream came back to her.  
Kattegat destroyed.  
The Gods.  
Loki.  
Her shoes...  
And the more pieces of her dream she gathered, the more her body would start shivering, and her heart biting faster.  
The girl leaned forward, holding her head in her hands for a second, squeezing her skull in her palms. She sighed, trying her best to calm the nervous tremors which would keep making her muscles and nerves vibrate all over.  
That wasn't the first time she dreamed of something like that.  
Often, Loki would visit. Sometimes it was some other God. Yet her sleeping mind was always a scenario of similar omens and prophecies.  
Sometimes the future, present, or past seemed clear, and it wasn't difficult to understand the meaning of her visions. But other times... It was all hidden, her eyes weren’t able to translate whatever the Gods let her see.  
She was born blessed. Or damned. It always depended on the point of view.  
The Gods were whispering to her as much as they did with her father.  
She could feel the beings around her, perceiving their souls and nature. She was sensitive to the signs of the Gods and sometimes she would praise it. Sometimes damn it.  
She was still learning, trying to craft that ability as anything else... But it never seemed like something she could grasp and have control over.  
Even following her father's footsteps, sometimes felt impossible. And even being younger, much younger, from when he started crafting his abilities, wasn’t of any help.  
As everyone looked at her father. Everyone looks at her, now.  
There is some sort of respect and observance in the way people called her a fool, a crazy one. Sometimes trickster, Loki-kissed, as her name carried as if she was his wife.  
Some wouldn't trust her. Some would avoid her.  
And she knew everyone called her the giantess, not because of her size… But because of her name.  
Sometimes there was fear in those names, in those whispers, because she grew, and she became a fine shieldmaiden. Learning the way of the ax, the Viking way, from Floki the Boat Builder, loyal drengr of Ragnar Lothbrok. And she trained with the Sons of Ragnar, ever since she was a kid.  
Sometimes there was affection in those names, used by the brothers to tease her, used by their mother to laugh about others.  
Mostly, though, Angrboda didn't care.  
She used to when she was younger. Not anymore.  
Because she knew she was stronger than some names.  
She was born to be a warrior as much as to be a witch. Even if she was still crafting all of her being and abilities, she found now pride in the reputation people gave her. And surely, she embraced greatly her closeness to Loki, Lord of Mischief.  
Angrboda bolted out of her bed, quickly dressing up and gathering her stuff, before stepping out of her room looking for her father, the only other being able to completely understand her.  
“Father!”  
She called, stepping out of their house and finding Floki sat under the porch, engraving some runes in a tiny wooden figure.  
The man raised his head and a huge smile appeared on his lips, the moment their eyes crossed.  
His face was marked by time and events, but his eyes never lost their spark and Angrboda loved him so dearly.  
There was so much of his expressions and behaviors, in his daughter and she knew exactly how proud he was of her.  
Floki's aura was like no other. He had immense and mostly raw power, always surrounded by the same sparkles that the fairy world had. He was strong and creative, he was a brilliant man, a sweet father… And most importantly, he shared with Angrboda that way of seeing the world.  
The girl looked around just for a second, checking that the street crossing Kattegat, running along with their house, was not too crowded. But it didn’t seem so.  
If generally, kids would be running all over that street, from the Main Hall to the port, and people would walk by going on with their life… That morning everyone’s attention seemed to be pointed somewhere else.  
This was good, it helped Angrboda to feel less watched over.  
So, the girl stepped closer finding her seat next to her father.  
Floki freed his hands, getting rid of what he had in them before, and turned over to her, leaning his head, now he was serious and curious, but no word was said.  
He looked her in the eyes, mirrors of his, and Angrboda let him go further behind them.  
A smile crossed his lips, accompanied by a little high peached laugh. Floki raised his hand, moving it close to her face letting his fingertips dance on Angrboda's energy, caressing her aura.  
“So, Loki visited you again, I see.”  
“This time seemed different.”  
“How so?”  
Her father backed up a little, now back to reality, back seeing her physical self. The man nodded; his face had a sort of serious shadow over it.  
“I don’t know. It felt different… And what I saw.”  
“…It did not feel like a good omen.”  
Angrboda just nodded at her father's words, who seemed to have plucked her thoughts from her own mind.  
“Not at all. I feel something it’s coming.”  
“It’s weird.”  
“What is?”  
“The Gods spoke to me too, last night.”  
“Did they?”  
“Yes. We will have a guest. Up in the woods; so, I and your mother will be moving back to the cabin shortly. As soon as she is back from the market.”  
“Who’s coming?”  
“I cannot say. But you’re welcome to follow us.”  
Angrboda's eyes followed a quick sparkle moving in thin air, between them, and then her sight was caught on the roof of the Main Hall building and a deep sigh left her lungs.  
She could not describe how she felt… But her intuition, her sixth sense, was already working and her mind filled up with whispers that carried the brothers' names.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼𝑣𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑈𝑏𝑏𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑆𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑑…  
And in all of the distance and the other auras, she could possibly feel, there was one which shown above all. Of which Angrboda could feel the warmth even being so far away…  
“They will need me.”  
Floki nodded at her words, well knowing his daughter and her bond with the brothers.  
Especially with Ivar, who was like a son of his own.  
“You’re free to stay too. Your decision. But I agree with you, something is coming.”  
“Change.”


	2. Cursed.

Angrboda rested comfortably on a bed of short grass.   
Her eyes were pointed at the sky surrounding her and the clearing on the top of the hill where laid the hunting cabin, that often the Lothbroks used as a place to escape Kattegat.   
Angrboda could hear the trees sing with the birds, and the bushes, and the mushrooms from the forest, she could hear the wind slip and glide through the leaves and the grass, or the low humming of the stones, from the valley, in a harmonious chorus able to reach her soul. And she could see the sparkles of the fairy world all around.   
She knew where to find them, the fairies, and she even knew where to find the tricks and nightmares placed by the trolls, but Angrboda was always incredibly careful not to get too close to any of those. Everyone knew it was way too easy to get lost in their realms.  
“My father is going away…”  
She sighed those words in a silent request that remained hanging in the clear air.  
She didn’t want to follow Floki and Helga to their forest home, because that would mean be too far away from the boys. But also, being on her own wasn’t a good idea.  
She wasn’t weak, she wasn’t helpless and vulnerable… And yet, the majority of people didn’t like or understand, her.  
“Why? Where is he going?”  
Angrboda rolled over, pointing her green eyes at Ivar, who was laying next to her.   
With a look, she followed the line of his forehead and the edge of his nose and for a moment, she didn’t answer.   
She was more focused on his energy.  
Ivar had a great aura. Surprisingly full of wonders and strength, but he wasn’t just strong; he had such a brilliant mind and determination. There were affection and sweetness in him; but everything that Ivar had, of immensely good, seemed always to be battling with the darkness within him; his pain, anger, his feelings of doubt, his being different. His darkness was a great shadow always hovering, and she promised, a very long time ago, that she wouldn’t have let it destroy him.  
Ivar was the one Angrboda grew the closest to, thanks to the role her father had for him, he was the one she considered a brother above all. And she loved him dearly.   
And it was a habit, now, that the Gods would whisper to her ear and suggest looking after him – not that she needed encouragement about that. Angrboda was very protective of all the Aslaug’s sons.  
Just after a few seconds, she finally shook her head, leaving her thoughts to come back to reality.  
“He needs to go back checking on the ships for Bjorn – apparently.”  
Which was technically a lie. But not entirely. Because Floki was really working for Bjorn, building him ships as he once did for Ragnar, so they could be Vikings once again, and more sagas could be written carrying their names, while they went looking for the mysterious Mediterranean Sea.  
But even if it was a half-truth, Angrboda still felt pretty guilty about lying. Yet, the whole truth was not for anyone to ear.  
“Is he going to come back soon?”  
“Not likely.”  
“Oh… And what about you?”  
Angrboda tipped her head to the side, lowering her eyes to the thin grass, which she proceeded caressing, losing herself in her thoughts for another moment. “I won’t follow. I need to stay here. If I go, who will look after you boys, uh?”  
She raised her eyes back to Ivar’s and a big smile appeared on her lips. Both of them chuckled at her assumption and Ivar gave her a little push.   
“I think you will be the one who needs to be looked after, uh?”  
A big, kind of annoying smile appeared on Ivar’s lips, while he gave her a know-it-all look, nodding to his own words. “You shouldn’t stay on your own and you know it.”  
“Yes, I’m aware.”  
A deep sigh left her chest. It always made her quite sad, the reaction people had to her.  
Her father was graced by his friendship with Ragnar and his adventures – he was a great warrior but more, he was the boat builder who brought their people to England.   
But what about her?  
It did not matter that her story was similar to her father’s one; that she saw the events of Paris, that she was there.   
It did not matter that she tried to defend her people, that she killed, she fought already, proving herself - even if she was just a kid, then.   
It did not matter that she never did anything wrong.  
Ubbe and Hvitserk were in Paris as well, fought next to her. Yet, their story seemed totally different.   
And between those who firmly believed that Loki damned that whole expedition, driving Ragnar to his defeat… There are few who still think it was Floki and Angrboda's fault.  
Angrboda wasn’t as lucky as Floki; and even being close to the Sons of Ragnar and having their protection – even if she hated that term specifically, she didn’t need any – was still something that the people whispered about. They were going on saying she bewitched the Ragnarssons into liking her… Forgetting, apparently, how friendship is born. Especially, once like theirs, a bond set off by time.   
But she was a woman, and that was more than enough to give her all the bad history no one would dare to give to her father.   
Ivar whistled, startling Angrboda back to reality, who slightly jumped, pointing her eyes back into his.   
“Sorry…”  
“Are you ok?”  
“No. I don’t like the idea of me not being able to be on my own.”  
Angrboda closed her fingers on a little clump of grass, ripping it off the ground.  
She was so distracted by her thoughts of that sort, on how terrible people could be, and how easily her sadness on the matter could become angry, not to realize the other Ragnarssons were approaching.  
If she was paying attention, she would have heard their cheerful chattering echoing from the valley.   
But more than their voices, she would have felt their auras.  
But she wasn’t paying attention – so all those feelings just overwhelmed her once Hvitserk, Ubbe and Sigurd were close enough for her to be surrounded by their energies.  
“So, that was actually a request, wasn’t it?”  
Proceeded Ivar going back to their conversation.  
“What was a request?”  
Asked Ubbe, curious, jumping the fence surrounding the little hut.  
His piercing blue eyes found Ivar first and Angrboda after, and a little smile appeared on his lips.   
His aura was great as one of any of them; and as all of them, Ubbe had a great hunger for fame and power, but not in a greedy way. His feelings on his dreams were pure. He was courageous and spontaneous, clever enough, and stronger the rest of the way. Ubbe was also very attached to the idea of family and having his brothers together.   
He was also the one who resembled Ragnar the most, in appearances and spirit.  
Sigurd followed, his curious green eyes followed Ubbe’s on Angrboda, but he didn’t say anything, just moving to a wooden stand on which he proceeded to hang the couple of hares he hunted.   
His aura was always full of anger and jealousy. He really liked to be mischievous and irritating – especially towards Ivar, who was also, the brother he was jealous of. He had a big mouth, always had time to make jokes, even evil ones, always expecting to have the last word, and way quicker in defending himself with words than anything else.   
He was often misunderstood, but Sigurd also didn’t too much to make people understand.   
Angrboda knew there was a great deal of pain, behind his anger. And that his jealousy for Ivar… Was caused by specific and totally reasonable reasons for him.   
There were some bravery and purity, in him… But it surely wasn’t something under the surface of his spirit, even Angrboda couldn’t find those qualities, most times.   
And he did everything in his power, to push people away.   
For reasons or not, Angrboda didn’t like him much – and she knew the feeling was quite mutual. Her closeness to Ivar was for Sigurd as her choosing his side. And so, for that, he would be hostile like he always was with Ivar.   
The difference was that Ivar wasn’t an easy person to deal with. But she was different.   
Last, but not least, Hvitserk appeared.   
His aura was as warm, as bright, as clear sunlight. And she felt its energy caressing her skin.   
He had such a pure and clean spirit. Full of courage, full of positivity. Hvitserk was a strong warrior and a loyal man. And his heart felt like Summer.   
He was also attached to the idea of family, and with Ubbe, he fought to keep together the brothers, usually trying to extinguish the arguments between the younger ones.   
His laughter could heal any spirit. His hunger for knowledge and adventure was as driven as any other kin of Ragnar Lothbrok.   
But he was different from any other – there was no darkness, no corruption in his heart.   
And Angrboda’s heart was beating for his.  
Memories from the past hit her suddenly, but violently.  
Time and everything with it, around Angrboda, stopped - but her mind was sucked back to a moment, not too long ago.  
She was forced to watch, re-live, re-experience that single memory, that still now hunted her.  
The moment of a decision, a choice made, that broke her and changed her fate.   
A vision of the past.

—— . ——

𝐴 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘, 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚 𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔.  
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝐾𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦, ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑤.  
𝐴 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎, 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑, 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑅𝑎𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛: 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘.  
𝐻𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑔𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑡. 𝐼𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑑𝑠.  
𝐼𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠.  
𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑 𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠, 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑠, 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑... 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑜.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑠.  
𝐹𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑣𝑢𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑜.  
𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑖𝑡, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘... 𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑛 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑚.  
𝑆𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒.  
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘, ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑑 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠.  
𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑡, 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘 𝑎𝑤𝑜𝑘𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒; 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒.  
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑟𝑢𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒... 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒, 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑢𝑠𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔... 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑛, 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑞𝑢𝑒. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑜𝑧𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑. 𝐼𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡.   
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛, 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘’𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦, 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠; ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛.  
"𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎..."  
𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑟.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 - 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 – 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑟. 𝐵𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒.  
𝐼𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟; 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑚, 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔…   
“𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎.”  
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑢𝑝 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑.   
𝐴𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙, 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠. 𝐼𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚. 𝑇𝑜𝑜 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑡, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛.  
𝑆𝑜, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑, 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒, 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑠ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘. 𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙. 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟.   
“𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜?”  
“𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖…”  
𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒.   
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐺𝑜𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤. 𝑌𝑒𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.   
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 – 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠, 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒… 𝐼𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡.  
“𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜? 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦…”  
“𝐼…”  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑢𝑝, 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒? 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝐺𝑜𝑑.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚.  
“𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤… 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑏𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛.”  
“𝑊ℎ𝑦?”  
“𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑜.”  
“𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠? 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠?”  
“𝑌𝑜𝑢, 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑅𝑎𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝐿𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘.”  
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑.   
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑… 𝐵𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒: 𝑤ℎ𝑦?  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡.  
“𝑀𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢… 𝑌𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛, 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛, 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑢𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠… 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒.”  
𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔.  
𝐼𝑓 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡…   
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖.   
𝐵𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔…  
“𝐻𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ.”  
𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐺𝑜𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒.   
𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑦𝑗𝑎.   
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒.  
“𝑄𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡.”  
𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦.   
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟. 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑡ℎ, 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖’𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟.  
“𝐷𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐹𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡. 𝐵𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛…”  
“𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛?”  
“𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘, 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑅𝑎𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑟, 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑙𝑙-𝐹𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒. 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑠. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠.”  
“𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠?”  
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑦𝑗𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑, 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖’𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑟.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠… 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑦𝑗𝑎’𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖’𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑝 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔.   
𝐴𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒.  
𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟, 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠, 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛… 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑒. 𝐵𝑜𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘’𝑠.  
“𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦.”  
“𝑊ℎ𝑦? 𝑊ℎ𝑦?”  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝐺𝑜𝑑.   
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑧𝑒𝑑.  
𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖’𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.  
“𝐼 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡. 𝐼 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒. 𝑆𝑜, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑒.”  
“𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑑𝑜…”  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑝, 𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑔. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.   
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑦…  
“𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑢𝑝. 𝑆𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒.”   
𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖'𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒, 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑟, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑢𝑙𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙, ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡, 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒.  
𝐹𝑙𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓.  
𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ.  
𝑆𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠.  
𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑛. 𝑈𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑦𝑗𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟... 𝑊𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓.  
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑡?  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑦? 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟? 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔?  
𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒? 𝑊ℎ𝑦...  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑, 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑝, 𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑠ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓.  
𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘'𝑠.  
𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑢𝑛.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑, 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒, 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑.  
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑦, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒, 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝐼𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑚 ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑒, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.  
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑝, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑜𝑧𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑢𝑟𝑎, 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑦, 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑.  
𝑆𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑜𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑, 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝐻𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑘’𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑘.  
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛, 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙, 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒.  
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡. 

—— . ——

Emotions, images, unspoken words… Everything was so loud, so powerful, and completely overwhelmed her.  
Angrboda forced herself to break eye contact with Hvitserk… Because her heart was still in pieces, and her soul still aching by missing his closeness.   
But she chose.  
She chose Loki.  
Even if, that wasn’t true. Because she still chose Hvitserk. To save him, from whatever the future bare for them, and would ruin him.  
Angrboda could survive in a world with her Hvitserk being as pure and with such a kindred spirit, even if she could never have his heart. Or let him have hers.  
Her pain was bearable.  
But the option… Of him losing himself… That felt like death to her.   
Angrboda cleared her voice, trying to find her balance and focus once again; she looked at Ubbe, pretending nothing happened – everything was normal, or as normal as one like her could be. And no one seemed to realize what a storm raged inside of her.   
“My father and mother are moving back to the cabin in the woods for a few… Weeks, I’m going to guess. But I’m not going to follow them. So, I guess I need a place to stay.”  
“And I was going to tell her that she is welcome in our home.”   
“No! I can… I can stay here, in the cabin! I wouldn’t dare…”  
“Nonsense! Angrboda, you’re like the sister we never had!”  
Ubbe’s smile widened upon his face, already nodding as he took that decision, and it didn’t seem to matter what the other thought.  
Sigurd scoffed a laugh, giving his back to anyone else, apparently way busier in dealing with hit prey than the conversation.  
And Hvitserk… He was paying attention, Angrboda could feel his eyes on her. But she didn’t yield to the need to look at him.  
“No, I want to stay here. It will be more than good, for me.”  
“What if the wolves come?”  
Just then, Angrboda looked over, crossing her eyes with Hvitserk’s.   
He seemed serious about that possibility. But so was she, about her decision.  
And besides how awkward it would be, between them… Angrboda certainly could not ignore the warm feeling that his concern gave her.   
She would have never admitted it. Never again. But he had the sole power to scoop her hear up from her chest if he wanted.   
But that was a secret, for everyone, even and especially, the Gods.  
“You know that wolves would never hurt me.”  
She said, leaning her head to the side, smirking confidently.  
Of course, she wasn’t stupid; Angrboda very well knew that wolves wouldn’t stop their anger just because they are supposed to be Loki’s kin – but, she also got lost many times in the forest before, especially when she was way smaller and still learning about the fairies, and she never, in her whole life, saw a wolf.   
“No. You’re going to stay in the hall. There’s warm food, and space plenty.  
I am sure everyone will be happy to have you!”  
Ivar clearly disagreed with her, and clearly, when he disagreed, there was not much space for other opinions.   
Angrboda wasn’t so keen on getting involved so much with their household. She didn’t want to be served by their slaves, eat their food, occupy their space.   
And, most of all, she surely didn’t want to be so unnecessarily close to Hvitserk.   
“I took my decision. It’s either way here, or… I’ll stay at my house.”  
And even before she terminated her words, she could see Ubbe and Hvitserk, ready to contradict her and offer more help, more support… More than whatever Angrboda was ready to accept by pride, or needed in general.  
But Ivar shushed them all, raising a hand in the air, and spoke first. “Ok, maybe you can stay in the cabin. But you’ll have to tell me the truth about what happened.”  
Ivar gave her a long look, making her understand she couldn’t fool him.   
Ubbe and Hvitserk remained silent, waiting… And even Sigurd slowly turned, looking over.  
Angrboda looked all of them in the eye, one by one then huffed soundly once, and then again.  
“I… Can’t.”  
“Why?”  
“Because the Gods spoke to me. About it. And to my Father… About something else.”  
“What did they say?”  
Hvitserk moved a bit closer, tipping his head to the side, looking at her, trying to understand, or see more clearly. As if the answer would be visible through her.  
“You know I can’t say too much.”  
She was allowed to speak of those things in detail with Floki and the Seer, but she didn’t like to be too close with the Ancient-One… He had too much power, and his aura always overwhelmed her.  
Plus, she respected the Seer, and he was probably the only one who could give her answers… But not all the time it was useful.   
And sometimes, she would know things because Loki shared secrets that the other Gods didn’t want him to. And the Seer didn’t really like that either.  
But, if she would reveal too much to others, Loki would also make her pay a price, in a way or the other… And the last thing Angrboda wanted to do was anger her dear Lord of Mischief.  
Ivar turned, giving her a look. A tiny smirk appeared on his face while he gave her his usual smart expression of someone who knows better.   
“So, something is going to happen!”  
Ivar tried to find an answer to his words in her expression, but Angrboda's lips were sealed and she didn’t give anything else away.  
She turned over to Ubbe, Sigurd and last, Hvitserk.  
“This settles it then. I will stay here.”


End file.
